Empty Nest
by MissAnnThropic
Summary: We know how Sam and John Winchester felt about Sam leaving for college, but how did Dean handle it?
1. Chapter 1

Title: Empty Nest  
Author: MissAnnThropic  
Summary: We know how Sam and John Winchester felt about Sam leaving for college, but how did Dean handle it?  
Disclaimer: None of it's mine. I'm just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching DVDs of her favorite shows :(

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John Winchester thought he had gotten rid of his moody son when his youngest had his temper tantrum and left for Stanford two days ago. It had been hard to watch him go, but John had to admit it would have been just as hard to have him stay. He and Sam butted heads like two mountain goats on heroine, and as much as he loved his boy, sometimes he couldn't look at him without getting furious.

He hated the ways things were left with him and Sam, but maybe this time apart could be a good thing. Hell, maybe Sam could find whatever slice of normal he'd been longing for all his life. John knew better, of course, but maybe Sam needed to figure that out on his own. And maybe, in a year or so when both Winchester men had time to cool off enough, they could try and make some amends to their splintered relationship.

It would just take time, and in the meantime John and Dean had work to do.

John had been so blindly angry at Sam the first day after he'd walked out that John had failed to notice something very apparent missing. It hit John as he was sitting in their crappy apartment's kitchen waiting for Dean to come out of the bedroom he'd shared with Sam and join his father for coffee and hunt-searching.

John couldn't remember Dean saying a single word all day yesterday. Dean could stew with the best of them, but silence as a tool had been Sam's tactic. Dean would get testy, snap at people, make crude remarks. Quiet wasn't Dean's style; he just did a lot of talking without saying anything on point.

On further reflection, it made sense to John that Sam leaving would be hard on his oldest. The boys had been almost inseparable since the fire. From the moment John placed Sam in Dean's arms and charged him with protecting him, Dean had adopted it as his personal mission in life. It had been a relief to John all these years. It let him move his boys to the back of his mind while he hunted. He didn't worry because Dean could look after himself, and Dean would take care of Sam.

John tried to remember anything his oldest son had done or said yesterday, any clue to his state, but John had been so mad that it fogged his recollection of anything else since Sam stormed out. He had a vague sense of seeing Dean, but as a moving shadow in the background. There but not.

When Dean finally shuffled out of the bedroom, John said tentatively, "Hey, Dean."

Dean grunted and sank into a kitchen chair rather bonelessly. John peered at his son. Dean looked like shit, like he hadn't slept in days.

"Dean, I…" John faltered. "I wasn't very… you know, yesterday…"

Dean looked up slowly at John and the father stopped. There was a resigned weariness in Dean's face. He'd seen Dean on the tail end of some vicious hunts before, but he'd never looked this ragged out and spent. And there was a glint of blame. Sam hadn't fought with himself, after all. It took two, and John was the other side of the argument that ripped their family apart. No doubt if Sam were there he'd be earning his own Dean-look of blame, but for now there was only John.

Watching his son so void of his usual energy, John decided he'd underestimated matters. So Dean was more distressed by Sam leaving than he'd originally anticipated he would be. Kind of weak, but he'd grant Dean some time.

John proclaimed they'd take a day before hitting the road. Dean had merely nodded acceptance and let his eyes wander to his cell phone on the counter. He stood and left without taking his phone with him.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

John hesitated. His son seemed to have forgotten how to properly address his father. John looked across the living room of their soon-to-be-ex apartment. Dean was packing their meager belongings into a duffle but he turned to look at John.

He made no apology for his disrespect, his blatant lack of 'yes, sir', and John wondered if it was some kind of retaliation against John for letting Sam leave.

If so, that would have to be dealt with and this behavior stopped. But later.

"Did your brother take Jim's knife?"

Dean went very still. "That was Sam's knife, Pastor Jim gave it to him."

"It was a weapon for hunting. What will Sam need with a silver knife at college?" Even to his own ears, John sounded bitter. Sam wasn't even here and he was still fighting with him.

Dean's expression went rigid and guarded. "It was Sam's knife." Dean turned his back on John and signaled the end of the conversation.

John bristled. "Dean. _Dean_, look at me when I'm talking to you."

Dean turned slowly to face John.

John readied himself to give a lecture, but there was something empty in Dean's eyes that made John stop. This wasn't defiance he could batter down like a castle gate, it wasn't fear he could reason through or pep talk past. It was utter indifference to whatever John had to say.

John swallowed. "Your brother made his decision, Dean. Whatever this is," he gestured at Dean, "I want you to snap out of it. You're useless to me on a hunt like this."

For a long moment Dean just stared at John. Then he said flatly, "Yes, sir."

John waited until Dean turned around again to let slip a concerned frown.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

John found Dean outside in the hotel parking lot at four a.m., leaning against the Impala like she was the only thing holding him up. He had a distant, unfocused look in his eyes and seemed to barely notice John come up beside him. He looked horrible. Tired. Sloppy tired. The kind of exhausted that could get one of them killed on a hunt.

John came up alongside his son, leaned against the car, and sighed. "What's going on, Dean?"

Dean didn't move so much as an inch to acknowledge his father's arrival. Usually, when John walked up on his oldest son, a shot of adrenaline-like energy went through the kid. Like he was amped up by John's presence, fed off it and turned it into kinetic potential energy. It was an untenable aspect of Dean that John counted on so often on hunts.

It wasn't there now. Dean was apathetic to the arrival of John Winchester like any other person in the world to an unknown face.

"Couldn't sleep," Dean answered absently.

John eyed his boy. "I get the feeling you haven't slept since Sam left."

Dean only shrugged.

John's jaw set. "Look, Dean. I need you on top of your game. Lives depend on us. I can't afford for you to pull a Sam on me."

Dean looked sharply at John, and the shadows of pre-dawn hid the look in his eyes, but John _felt _it. Wrong thing to say.

But damnit, it was _true_.

"Get some sleep, that's an order."

John was completely flabbergasted when Dean snorted.

That was it. John stood to his full height and grabbed Dean's elbow. "That wasn't a suggestion."

It surprised both of them when, like a reflex, Dean shoved his father away. "Don't you think I…" Dean yelled hoarsely, then he stopped suddenly in mid-sentence. John blinked at Dean, speechless. Dean seemed to lose his center and stood there floundering, tired beyond belief and lost.

John hadn't realized before how much of Dean was Sam.

"Come on," John tugged on Dean's sleeve with more care.

"What?" Dean asked, but not angrily. Raggedly. Like he couldn't fight anymore but didn't know what else to do.

"You're coming to my room and you are sleeping. End of story."

Dean just relented and followed his father. John had to do little more than steer Dean toward the bed when his son fell into it and was almost instantly asleep. John gazed down sadly at Dean. Even asleep, he looked awful.

How could Sam this to his brother? To the family?

John wondered if Sam was okay. He briefly considered his phone, then dismissed the idea and returned to his research.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

An hour later, Dean stirred. John was shocked. He had been sure Dean would sleep a solid eight hours, at least, given how tired he was. From the corner of the hotel room, he watched his boy wake up after only an hour.

Dean seemed to force himself awake, sat up, and immediately looked to the other side of the bed. When he found it empty, he released a shaky breath and his back bowed.

John put his papers down. "Son."

Dean looked up quickly. He seemed surprised to be in the same room as his father. Then he frowned.

John stood, crossed the scant distance between them, and sat down on the bed opposite Dean. "What's going on?"

Dean looked away.

"Dean," John said again, this time with a definite tone of an order in his voice.

Dean, looking like ten kinds of shit, scrubbed at his face roughly with his hands and looked warily at his dad. "Sam and I have shared a room since I was four."

John felt it like a gut punch. He'd never thought about it. He'd never had the money to spring for anything more than the barest accommodations. He had always put Dean and Sam together, for the sake of saving money and for the peace of mind in knowing Dean was with Sam to watch over him. They had always shared a room. Often, they'd shared a bed.

John hadn't considered Dean wouldn't be able to sleep without Sam close by. He should have. The boys had been sleeping in sight of each other for eighteen years. He really couldn't expect that kind of bond to go away.

"Ah, Dean…" John sagged. With a frown, John stood and went to the bathroom. He dug through his kit and came back with a sleeping pill.

"Take this."

Dean didn't move to accept it.

"You need sleep, son. Just… for me." It had almost come out an order, but at the last second John thought maybe Drill Sergeant Winchester wasn't what Dean needed.

Numbly, Dean took the pill and dry-swallowed it. He laid back down and eventually fell asleep, still confined to a single side of the queen-size bed.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Dean slept fourteen hours. It was long enough that John started to worry. More than once John checked his son's breathing and pulse. They seemed fine. For all appearances, it looked like Dean was finally crashing.

While he slept like the dead, John stayed in the room and thumbed through research but accomplished little. He spent most of the day casting worried looks at his son. He'd always considered Dean the strong one. How had a frailty like this slipped his notice? He'd assume his boys' devotion and attachment to each other was a strength, but Sam had some idea about having a normal life that took him off to California and Dean had a vicious bout of separation anxiety.

Late in the afternoon, Dean's cell phone rang. Dean was so out of it he didn't even stir, and John dug through Dean's pocket and pulled out his phone. He looked at the caller ID and froze.

It was Sam.

John opened the phone and brought it to his ear. For the life of him, he couldn't find his voice.

"Dean?" Sam asked tentatively.

John just stood there dumbly.

Sam sighed. "You're mad at me, man. I get that. I just wish… I never wanted Dad to come between us. I just can't live his life and I was never going to make him accept that. My leaving… it was waiting to happen. If it hadn't been college it would have been something else. Anything else. This was something I had to do. Maybe you'll understand someday."

John gazed down at Dean, sleeping deeply.

"Could you say something?" Sam begged, his voice distressed.

John croaked but couldn't force out words.

Sam's voice was thick with emotion. "Okay… I just wanted you to know I'm okay." Sam laughed hoarsely. "Except I'm having trouble sleeping without you in the same room with me."

John coughed on a laugh. What had he done to his boys?

"Dean, I… I… you look after yourself, okay?" John could hear the dejection in Sam's voice. "Bye."

The connection ended without John managing a single word. He lowered the phone to the nightstand and stood a long time watching Dean sleep. Not once, in all the fights he'd had with Sam about anything and everything, had he given any thought to how it might tear his boys apart.

He hadn't noticed just how much they needed each other. He realized, with a start of remorse, that the splitting of the family was really the only answer to the Winchester family drama.

But it should not have broken this way. Dean and Sam should have gone off together. It should be John on his own. He could survive and hunt solo, but Dean and Sam were tied up in each other. They were walking wounded without each other.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

"… Sam…?"

John looked up at the groggy voice to find Dean rolling over in bed and looking around sleepily.

"About time you got up, son. You've slept through the better part of a day."

Dean blinked. "I did?"

"Yeah. Good thing this wasn't a hunt or someone could have been hurt. Here," John tossed a vending-machine honey bun at Dean as his way of providing a healthy breakfast for his son to start the day.

Dean eyed the snack and, like a draw of gravity, his eyes went to the empty bed space beside him. He seemed more accepting this time. At least, John hoped.

With effort, Dean pushed himself out of bed and shuffled over to his dad and his spread of papers. "What are you looking at?"

"Not sure yet. Some disappearances in Wisconsin. Can you be packed in an hour?"

Dean's expression set. "Can I have two?"

That was the kind of answer he would have expected from Sam. Maybe the boys had left bits of themselves in each other when they parted.

"That's probably not a bad idea," John said. "your morning breath is foul enough to knock a buzzard off a shitwagon."

Dean smirked.

"Clean up, I'll go get us some dinner, then we'll hit the road."

Dean nodded, fished into his pocket for his hotel key card, then noticed his missing phone. A quick survey of the room led him to the nightstand and he picked it up. John tried to act like he didn't notice when Dean checked his phone and froze.

Dean left the room and John sat in the silence left behind. He could hear Dean wrestling with the tetchy door lock on his next-door room. Before the door closed, John heard a gently-spoken, affectionate, "Sammy?" before the rest of his son's words were lost into the room next door.

John sank down further in his chair and sighed. He'd done wrong by his boys this time. Those two needed each other. He saw that now.

He'd find a way to steer them back together. Sam would need time to cool off and find whatever it was he was looking for, but afterward… John figured he could ditch Dean on a hunt. It would be cruel, but he could break all contact. If he knew his son, Dean would search frantically for a while, but when that failed he'd go to Sam.

He could accept that. Because he could be without his boys, but his boys couldn't be without each other.

As a father, it was the one sacrifice for them he could make.

THE END


End file.
